


Chained To You

by SilverBlaze85



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Other, Polyfidelity, Threesome - F/M/M, Trust Issues, h/c bingo fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-26 23:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverBlaze85/pseuds/SilverBlaze85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>We were standing all alone you were leaning in to speak to me, Ten steps back you’re still a mystery.</i> </p><p>Natasha is held hostage by her boys. She doesn't mind at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chained To You

**Title:** Chained To You  
 **Word Count:** 674  
 **Fandom:** Avengers  
 **Pairing:** Clint/Coulson/Natasha  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Warnings:** None that I know of.  
 **Summary:** We were standing all alone you were leaning in to speak to me, Ten steps back you’re still a mystery.

* * *

  
Natasha jerked awake as the body pinned her down, the panic making her fumble just enough that Clint didn’t find himself in immediate danger. Her brain recognized the sleepy puppy-like snuffles against the back of her neck as Clint, and she relaxed back into the softness of the mattress. _“It’s okay, he just rolled over, silly girl,”_ she chastises herself, ignoring the slight tremors still racing through her. She didn’t do well being pinned, Clint knew that, but she had gotten used to his presence, to _their_ presence, and didn’t usually jolt like that, and he seemed to subconsciously remember not to turn into a living blanket.

She took a deep breath, recognizing Clint’s arm twisting under her own and underneath Phil’s chest, recognized Phil’s arm wrapped around her waist and burrowed under her hip, and quietly huffed in amusement. They had fully wrapped her up, burying her in the middle of the bed under their limbs, and both were dead to the world. Which was good, pleasant even, but her bladder was warning her, and likely the reason that she had jolted awake so easily when Clint had pressed against her side so tightly. She could get up, use the bathroom, and knowing Clint’s heat-seeking, could nestle in against his back after he mimicked an octopus around Phil. Easy, especially when a moment later, Barton grunted against the back of her neck and squirmed away, flopping fully onto his stomach and tunneling his arms under the pillow.

She shifted, breath held as she carefully twisted away, gently easing Phil’s arm down, smiling to herself as he twitched before pulling it against his chest, breath not changing in the least. Smiled, until she felt another set of arms twist around her waist, burrowing under the silk and pinning her against Clint, and she snarled in frustration, keeping it internally at the last moment. He mumbled a little against her neck before nosing against her nape, one leg squirming through hers to pin her fully against the mattress before he sighed and slipped fully back under.

Damnit.

She waited a few minutes, until Clint’s hand jerked sharply against her stomach, letting her know he was deep under, and started trying to withdraw from the tenacious grip he had on her. It was tricky, even with the silk sliding effortlessly against his skin, because she would free one limb, and he’d cling even tighter to another, but she was a master assassin, a clever woman, and capable of things she didn’t even think Fury knew about. Surely she could escape a bed without waking them.

******

Five minutes later, she had almost wriggled free. She exhaled carefully, using the space from her compacted torso and the silk of the shirt to ease herself out of Clint’s grasp, and smiled as he whimpered in his sleep, nuzzling against his pillow before going quiet again. When Phil’s hand clamped around her ankle, she mentally swore, and gently tugged it free, biting her lip when his eyes cracked open just enough to glance around the room before drifting shut. She waited a minute, and when neither one moved, carefully slid off the bed and padded silently to the bathroom. She sighed in the quiet darkness of the room, leaning against the closed door and relishing the chill. She loved her boys, dearly and wholly, but both were a bit cuddly when they slept.

In Clint’s case, cuddly like a burr. Or Velcro.

After she was done, she carefully eased open the door, and had to smile at the scene before her. Clint had done as she expected, and was plastered against Phil’s back, arms tight around his ribs and face burrowed against his shoulder blades, keeping Phil pinned. Their handler was grasping the edge of the mattress, looking for the world like he was desperately clawing himself away, and she just shook her head before slipping back into the fray, letting them take her body hostage again.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t taken her heart long ago, after all.

 

 

 


End file.
